The road less traveled by

The sun is getting lower over the brilliant yellow and blue of the Palauan flag, rippling in the breeze. Cars are backing up and honking at each other as "rush hour" is coming to an end. Brown eyes peek out of car windows, shop doors, and vinyl restaurant booths as you walk down the street. A random "hey", friendly wave, or catcall is voiced every few minutes. Starting down a small, bumpy, concrete road, you see the foliage bending over to touch the ground. A emaciated, speckled dog lounges by the street side. The sound of talking drifts out of door less huts as you trod up the road and through the undergrowth. The smell of cooking and sweat bubble up into the humid air. A little girl stops to touch your hand. She smiles, you smile back. You continue down the path which switches between uphill, downhill, twists, turns, and multiple branches off into driveways, trails, and the noisy jungle. As you get further from downtown, the sound fades as the silence becomes deafening. The only noises are tropical birds singing to each other and the lull of crickets as they drift off to sleep. Passing old, but stunning, buildings faded blue and pink, you end up at a huge white building. The faded chips of paint cling to the wall and the dome sitting on top. A huge black cross perches precariously at the summit. A Japanese man with a thin, pointy moustache sits cross-legged on the lawn. He is gazing at a faded Bible and smoke ascends from the tip of his cigar. He invites you to enjoy the beautiful view of the sunset from wherever you please. Your heart skips a beat. The adrenaline shoots thorough your veins as you glimpse the amazing architecture and see the luscious palm trees that are surrounding the compound. You climb dusty, rail-less steps to the roof of the church and gape at the marvelous sunset. The dark blue above you turns to a lighter blue, then to red, pink, orange and white where it meets the sea in the distance. Through the trees you can see the outline of a bridge over water that looks almost black. The humidity is cut by a gentle breeze rustling the palm leaves above. A tiny spotted lizard scampers across the red tin roof, making a pitter patter with his small sharp nails. As you descend the stairs, the relaxing sound of a guitar reaches your ears. It is accompanied by melodious voices harmonizing in the distance. As the sun completely submerges, you wave goodbye to the now snoozing man and dodge a nearly invisible dog as you make your way home.